Emily Rodda - The Golden Door

“We were given this in trust for you,” Edelle said. “It contains nine powers to aid you in your quest. We swore to keep it safe and to give it to you when you came to us. In return, you must swear never to tell a living soul how you came by it. Do you so swear?”

Rye went cold. He was caught in a net from which there was no escape. How dearly did he wish that he had stopped this at the very beginning! Now it was too late. He had blundered upon knowledge of a deadly secret. If he told the truth now, he and Sonia would never be allowed to leave this place.

“Do you so swear?” Edelle repeated.

Rye nodded. “Yes,” he croaked. “I swear.”

With the air of one conferring a great honor, Edelle slipped the circle of cord over Rye’s head. He felt the little bag settle onto his chest, and put up his hand to touch it. The bag was faintly warm, and his fingers tingled as they brushed its velvety surface.

Magic … magic that was intended for another.

Rye’s stomach churned. It was all he could do to stop himself from tearing the cord from his neck and thrusting the little bag back at Edelle.

“I thank you,” he made himself say.

Edelle paused, then leaned closer, pretending to straighten the cord at the back of his neck.

“You must make haste,” she breathed close to his ear. “Time is short. It is almost Midsummer Eve.”

“Edelle!” Kirwan’s voice was sharp.

“So our promise has been fulfilled,” Edelle said aloud and stepped back.

The other Fellan seemed to sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Then they all pulled their concealing hoods over their heads and began gliding silently back toward the giant ferns. Avoiding Kirwan’s accusing eyes, Edelle pulled up her own hood and followed.

“Wait!” Sonia cried. “Do not leave us!”

“Be quiet, Sonia!” Rye muttered furiously, but the girl took no notice.

“If you are on our side, you must show us where to go!” she shouted at the Fellan. “You must help us!”

Edelle stopped, but Kirwan put a warning hand on her arm and looked around, frowning. His face was already shadowy green.

“We are on no side ,” he said. “By ancient treaty, we do not interfere in the wider affairs of Dorne. We took charge of the gift we have passed to you for the sake of an old friendship, but we can do no more.” He glanced at Edelle, silent beside him. “Already, perhaps, we have done too much.”

He turned away and moved swiftly after the others, drawing Edelle along with him. In moments, they had vanished into the ferns.

Sonia made an impatient sound and threw herself down by the pool. She scooped up a handful of water and carried it to her lips.

The next moment, she was coughing, spluttering, and spitting in disgust.

“Ah, it is foul!” she choked, jumping up and scrubbing her lips with the back of her hand. “Bitter as week-old wine dregs! How could you drink it?”

Rye stared at her, astounded, as she continued to cough and spit. He crouched by the pool himself and took a small, careful sip. The water tasted as sweet and pure as ever.

“I do not understand you,” he said, dipping his hand into the pool again. “I have never tasted better.”

Sonia fell silent. He took a final drink, stood up, and turned to look at her. She was watching him intently — almost fearfully.

“It is the sign,” she said in a low voice. “The final sign that convinced them to give you that charm you wear around your neck. The water in Dann’s Mirror is sweet for you, but for no one else.”

It was plain to Rye that she was so used to the bland boiled and filtered water of the Keep that wild water was simply too strong for her taste. He could not say so aloud, however. The Fellan might still be close enough to hear. He could not risk talking disdainfully of the “sign” in which they had put so much faith.

“So it seems you are not as ordinary as you pretend,” Sonia muttered, glancing at him sideways. “Well, keep your secret, if it is so important to you! But surely you could have tried to make the Fellan help us! As it is, we do not know which way to go from here, or even where to take safe shelter for the night.”

“Then we are no worse off than we were before,” said Rye.

“Of course we are!” she cried. “Soon it will be dark. We do not dare to move on without a guide, in case we run into a fell-dragon net! And we cannot stay in this clearing, under the sky. You know that! You are the one who is so obsessed with skimmers!”

In sudden dread, Rye looked up. The orange light had faded. The sky above the clearing was gray, and he thought he could see the first glimmer of a star. To his relief, no dark, ragged shapes were flapping overhead.

“The first wave must fly to Weld from another direction,” said Sonia. “But who knows when others may come this way?”

Helplessly, Rye looked around the deserted clearing, which was now ringed with shadows. He thought he caught a flicker of movement and froze, staring at the place. The longer he looked, the more convinced he became that one shadow was deeper than the others.

Ask Dann’s Mirror….

The whisper was so faint that he was not certain that he had really heard it, yet he seemed to recognize the voice. He blinked, and suddenly the deeper shadow had vanished.

“Thank you, Edelle,” he murmured.

“What?” Sonia demanded irritably.

Rye stepped back to the edge of the pool and looked down into the dim water. Had Edelle really meant that he could ask the pool a question, and it would answer him?

He crouched by the pool. His reflection was now just a dark, blurred shape on the glassy surface. Whatever he asked, he had to ask it quickly. Soon it would be too dark to see.

A dozen questions trembled on his tongue. There were so many things he did not understand. So many things he needed to know.

But one was more important than all the rest. He could not miss this chance to ask it.

“Where is my brother Dirk?” he whispered.

The water began to ripple. Words appeared. Rye strained his eyes to make them out.

Rye’s heart seemed to leap into his throat.

“Where is the place of the Enemy?” he heard himself ask. “How do I get there?”

The darkening water swirled. New words formed.

Rye and Sonia followed the stream through the howls and screeches of the Fell Zone night. Leaves rustled, sticks cracked, and hungry eyes glittered in the blackness that fringed their path. But nothing sprang at them out of the blackness, and no nets barred their way.

At first, they had to walk blindly, guided only by the sound of water running beneath the mossy rock on which they trod. Then, just as the moon rose above the trees, the stream reappeared, bubbling from beneath a shelf of rock. After that, it was their constant companion, babbling beside them, winding ahead of them like a rippling ribbon of light.

It was a comfort, but the sense of danger was still very great, and Rye and Sonia walked tensely and in silence, not daring to stop for rest.

The bell tree stick held at the ready, Rye kept glancing up at the narrow band of sky above his head, checking for signs of skimmers.

There were no skimmers, or none that he could see. But there were stars — countless stars, studding the inky sky. Soon Rye found he was looking up as much in fascination as in fear. Never had he seen stars like these. The pale pinpoints of light that glimmered in the hazy night sky of Weld were nothing compared to this dazzling array of jewels glittering in a deep black sea.